Arven could not help but chuckle at the once-bird's attempts at wingless travel, but it was meant with affection. He placed her hand on his arm, a better handle than random grabbed handfuls of his shirt, content to play the part of stable walking stick. He was quite sure the others present would not approve of physical contact between the two, but Arv, as usual, had little interest in conceding to a flimsy social rulebook.

"No", he admitted when asked if he'd gone so long in a similar state himself. Sure enough, Porphyria (as Miss Dempsey had become known in his head) had just gone through an adventure the likes of which the adventurer had never sampled. "A hag did once turn me into a hedgehog after I stole her collection of bowtruckles, but..." he recalled the palaver vaguely, though it was a bit of a blur. "That only lasted a weekend."

Arven posed a playful question — "So, now that you can compare the two experiences more accurately than most who walk the Earth, which is the better state of being: person or bird?"